BLUEBIRD SISTER LOOSES MANS BEST FRIEND

Already 2008 has been tough and they say bad news comes in threes, not sure who says this but we have all heard that. This year I lost my job, my company and now most devastating my best friend, my dog Lucky. Lucky was a tall noble Irish Wolfhound, Brindle Grey and eyes only for me. Rain, shine, sleet, snow this dog loved me. He came to when I had been very ill, after we had lost two beloved family members. I had sold my wedding ring to pay for him, I hadn't had a dog since my sweet Florence of 14 years had died. My husband was working the night shift and I knew I needed a dog. He slept next to my bed, laid at my feet while I worked and each time I put my hand down he put his head under it! He was fine and full of life and when I brought him in the other night I could see something was wrong, he went to his favorite spot on our couch (yes though my husband was opposed to it he did have a spot on the couch in our family room) he would not eat or drink and I could tell by his eyes something was troubling him. I bothered my husband and I often do about these things, "Chad something is wrong with lucky!" As he often does he put me off – "he's fine!" and yet I knew he wasn't. I asked him again and being the sweet heart hero type he is my husband went to look him over and found that his stomach was distended. Worried about the bloat, we got out the Irish Wolfhound book and found we needed to do something quick. I called Judy and she said to get him to a vet. My husband called around while I tried to help Lucky get more comfortable. I talked to him rubbed his ears and then helped him into the car where he get trying to get into the front seat with my husband. (Which at 80 mph on the freeway was not smart.) We pulled over twice to get him back in the back seat with me. Finally lucky laid on his back on the floor of the back seat while I held his head and sang Irish lullaby's to him, rubbed his favorite spot and spoke soothing words to him. I knew somehow that things were not good. We got to the pet hospital and took xrays and they showed us the twisted stomach, the bloat and the fact that his stomach was in his chest and his spleen moved to the other side. He was in paid. I laid with him in his kennel there while we waited for the blood work to bear results that would determine his eligibility for surgery. The vet was female and thought she could perform the surgery and somehow that he had a good chance. The surgery was expensive and his chances 70% . I felt he wouldn't make it and yet my husband was a hero again and said we must do all we could and so we agreed. They shaved him, gave him a sedative and I held his head in my hands and he gave me a final look, his eyes for a second focused on me and then he licked me and then he was out. It took 4 vet assistants and my husband to get him on the table as he groaned. He went into surgery and 1 and a half hour later they said he was doing well and that he had only a 50% chance. I prayed then and felt that he would go and that I was to accept it. Thirty minutes later the vet came to tell us he had died just as they had stitched him up. His great big heart giving out in the end. I say him lifeless on the operating table, my massive best friend looked small somehow and not at all the lively noble friend he had always been. I save his shaved stomach, the stitches and the trauma of the situation put me into a kind of shock. It has been three days and I look under my desk to my cold feet from to find him, I step over his usual spot when I get out of bed and I put my hand down and am disappointed not to find his head. Where has he gone and why? Why? Then I know I must not ask, I think back to my friend Rachelle's mother from Africa who says that when you loose a beloved dog know that they made the sacrifice in lieu of the death of someone else you loved. The day Lucky died we found my husband's cholesterol was thorugh the roof and I thought perhaps Lucky with is love for me gave his life so that I might keep my husband's. I truly don't know, I just don't have those answers. If he did make that sacrifice I am very grateful. I do know he loved me. I miss him so much, I cry every few minutes and it has been 3 days, I wonder at the possibility of bearing this life without him and then my friend Judy said, "he went through the doggie door in Heaven and you will see him again!" And I thought to my self, now I will look forward to the day I die, if I do get to see him again. He was my best friend in a way that no living human could be . . . he was there rain or shine . . . happy said, brushed or un brushed . . . he loved me . . . I could tell by his eyes. And now I am alone in that. I thankfully have family and friend, my husband and my kids, so thank you Lucky for all you did, I don't know why your stomach twisted, I did everything to save you, I wish you were here, I am thankful for the time I am. I am sad so very sad and left behind are our other dogs, my daughter's poodle who has come to sit with me more the last three days than in the last 4 years. Lucky's smate Daisy, runs through the house looking looking looking for Lucky. I have told her what happened but does she understand? The other dog, Lucky and Daisy's son was scheduled to go to a home this weekend. He was the last of 8 puppies . . . . Sam, Sam has Lucky's eyes and his head and Daisy's from there on. I had my husband call the people and tell them not to come and get the puppy they had so looked forward. I was going to keep the last of Lucky, Lucky's son. He is not Lucky, he never will be, but he came in licked my face, sat at my feet and kept my feet warm at my desk and somehow I knew Lucky made his sacrifice and could because he had left someone behind to help me. Sam his son. So I am broken, bloody but unbowed as in William Earnest Henley's Invictus, but am not alone. My heart is filled with Lucky and my feet are warmed by his son and this Bluebird now can keep breathing.